Misery Loves Company
by I Genuinely Don't Know
Summary: In an attempt to distract himself from the encounter with Cupid, Nico takes it upon himself to seek out potential allies for the fight against Gaia. In hindsight, the Goddess of Misery probably wasn't the best candidate for the job.


Nico takes a deep breath, watching it crystallise in the freezing air as he slowly lets it out again. He's standing in a stone chamber, ceiling stretching up far taller than should technically be possible, dim light flickering from candles in brackets fixed to the walls. An obsidian table with two chairs facing each other are the only items in the room, ridiculously small compared to its size. Dining sets are laid out neatly in front of each chair, with a heavy golden plate in the middle of the table between them. Nico crosses to it but does not sit, instead drawing out a single gold Drachma and placing it on the centre plate. The sound echoes in the still air of the chamber as he sets it down.

"I invoke Oizys, Goddess of Misery," he says firmly, willing his voice to remain steady.

Nothing happens for a long moment, just Nico standing tense before the table, resisting the urge to go for his sword, looking around the room in anticipation.

Then suddenly, the candles begin extinguishing themselves, one by one. The temperature drops rapidly, leaving Nico shivering even through his thick aviator's jacket, hairs on the back of his neck standing on end. He holds still, willing his eyes to adjust to the darkness. It's true he has better than normal night vision as a child of Hades, but it's still difficult to make anything out as the darkness seems to thicken around him, the shadows seeming almost solid, pressing in on him on all sides. He strains his ears, trying to make anything out, but everything seems curiously muffled; aside from a faint whistling of wind there is nothing.

And then-

"So you're the one who called me here," a female voice says from behind his ear, and it takes all of Nico's willpower not to flinch. The voice is low and amused, and for a second he swears he feels breath on his neck before it moves away and comes again from in front of him. "Nico di Angelo. You seem to be a fan of my work."

"Oizys," he greets her, nodding his head respectfully at the place he thought her voice had come from.

"And so polite, too," she says approvingly. "I like that in a hero…Although, you're no hero, are you, Nico? Not really…"

She trails off, and Nico hears the faint wind move, sweeping around the room; he can practically feel her gaze on him, but he still can't make out anything.

"Poor _baby_," the voice croons from the darkness around him, a mockingly motherly tone. Nico keeps staring straight ahead, refusing to let any emotion show on his face; still, he can _feel_ her moving, a strange concentration of shadows swirling past him, circling like a shark. "Poor child. Born to a father who will never love you, scorned by those you try so hard to protect…and what's this? Something more…"

"Oizys," he says sharply before she can finish the thought, voice sounding painfully thin and empty in the dead air of the huge chamber, "I'm here to ask for your aid."

The voice laughs delightedly. "Aid! The King of Ghosts seeks _my _help? Truly an honour." The voice becomes colder, more mocking. "And why should I? You have those power drunk tyrants on Olympus, why come to the shadows to seek me out? You should know I do not offer my services for nothing…"

"I-" Nico begins, but she cuts him off almost immediately.

"Come now, little King. Give me an incentive. A tribute."

"I would think you've had enough of my offerings by now," Nico replies quietly.

Oizys laughs delightedly. "Enough? Not at all! You're one of my best works, if I do say so myself," she says, and he can practically hear the smile. "Nothing quite like that demigod pain."

Anger is boiling in him now, but he tries not to let it show, not to give her that satisfaction. He knew before coming in here she would do this, but it's much harder in person, in the cold and the black with an unseen Goddess prowling the room and probing his mind.

"I would apologise," she continues, "but really, I am the Goddess of Misery. It's to be expected." He feels her pause by his ear, whispering, "Perks being that there's always _plenty_ of work."

She laughs, and he can't help it; he was shaken even before he got here, the encounter with Cupid preying heavily on his mind, and she can see all those emotions burning in him, read him like a book, draw it out of him, and before he can stop himself he's snapping, "So you _enjoy_ our suffering?"

"I would have thought that was obvious, really," she replies, unperturbed.

"I have had," he hisses, "the _worst_ life because of you."

"Because of yourself, you mean?" she asks sharply. "I didn't kill your sister, Nico. I didn't turn your friends against you. I didn't convince your father of your uselessness. It was all you." The voice is circling around him again, stopping at his back. Nico almost forgets to breathe for a moment. "And," she whispers, deadly soft, "it is not _my_ fault Percy-"

"Don't," he says suddenly, cutting her off. "Don't, I-"

"Son of Hades!" she shrieks in his ear, and the sudden vehemence in the words hits him like an ice blast, the voice seeming to reverberate through his body. He cries out despite himself, but she continues, shrill and accusing. "Son of _death_, mould and decay wherever you go! Your sister died because of you, your father despises you! If only _you_ had been the one to die, he thinks, he _wishes_- Bianca was more capable, more fitting than you will ever be! Look how your allies avoid you- son of _filth_, why would they sully themselves with you? You who consort with the dead, who seek out the cold and the ruin because they suit you oh-so-well, you who do not belong to their world, and never will, not _truly_. Look at Hazel, your dear sister- but so vibrant, so skilled, so _loved_. Same father, it's not him, it's just _you_, Nico. Just you, twisted and wrong and so very _alone_." Her voice drops suddenly to a low hiss. "So _alone_, Nico, and you know why, don't you? You know he'd never love you, not when he has Annabeth, kind, clever, perfect Annabeth, who he holds so dear- who are you to compare? What are you to him, _O King_?"

At those last words, the shadows spring forward, surrounding him, enveloping him in almost tangible blackness.

Nico's shaking, he can't help it, can't think straight in the oppressive darkness as Oizys draws out everything that had been weighing on him and throws it back in his face; he sinks to his knees, the darkness pressing in around him. He can hear Oizys laughing, the sound seeming to come from all angles at once, ringing in his ears and around the chamber. He tries to raise his hands to his ears, but it feels like the shadows are actually grabbing his wrists, keeping them held to the floor. He feels weak, too weak to move, just scared and small and alone and he's fooling no-one what was the point he's never going to match up, just another failure, he's going to die here, she's going to kill him-

-And he'll never see Hazel again, never see Jason and Leo and Piper and Frank and even Annabeth, he'll never see Percy again, and that is not how this ends.

"No," he says suddenly, voice barely audible over the cackling-

The shadows slide back, releasing their grip on his wrists and dissipating.

Nico climbs unsteadily to his feet, glare fixing itself back on his face.

"No," he repeats. "I _am_ the Ghost King. I am a Son of Hades, and you _will_ deal with me as equals." He smiles bitterly. "Besides, you wouldn't kill me. You'd be losing your favourite plaything."

He clenches his fist and the shadows withdraw further, seeming to shrink in on themselves; Oizys' laughter has stopped abruptly, and she whistles slowly, a long low note that seems to linger long after she finishes.

"A clever little King," she whispers. "And strong…"

There's a long pauses as Nico keeps the shadows at bay, and suddenly, they all disappear. The supernatural blackness of the room recedes, leaving a much more mundane sort of darkness, and for a second he thinks she's vanished with it; but then there's a flicker of movement and Oizys shows herself.

Or rather, Percy does.

Percy Jackson is standing in the clearing shadows, exactly as Nico remembers him, black hair falling gently onto his face, sea-green eyes shining far more than they should in the dim light of the room.

"Well?" she asks with Percy's mouth and Percy's voice, "What do you think? Equal enough?" She smiles at his expression, a wide smirk that does not belong on Percy's face. "If you can't have the real thing, you can pretend, hmm?"

She steps closer. Nico holds his ground.

"You're not him," he says tiredly. "And I'm not playing this game."

The shadows swell at the corner of his vision as she smiles wider. "Ah, but you want my help, don't you? Come on, Nico. Just give in to that misery, that _desire_ burning in you."

She's right in his face, and Nico meets her gaze evenly, trying to focus on the uncanniness of her eyes and not the fact she looks exactly like Percy and gods, she even has the faint smell of sea-salt that follows him around sometimes, and _it's not Percy_, Nico thinks firmly.

She leans in closer. Nico doesn't move.

They stand like that for a long moment, nose to nose, lips nearly touching, and then she steps back with a laugh, Percy's guise dissolving to reveal a pale, slender woman with long black hair held back by a silver circlet. Her face is sharp, almost skeletal, and her thin lips pull back to expose sharp fangs as she smiles. She wears a black cloak above a simple grey chiton; screaming faces are woven into the cloak with silver thread which seems to glow in the darkness, reminding Nico uncomfortably of his father's own mantle.

"Well done, little King," she concedes, folding her arms. She moves to the chair on the other side of the table, settling in it and relaxing languidly. She doesn't seem to walk, Nico notices, more glide across the floor.

She yawns and stretches, then slumps back, fixing her cold eyes on him. They're sunken and dark, pure black ovals, and Nico has to force himself to meet them dead on.

"So, you seek help. With what?"

"You've heard about Gaia," Nico says, voice still shaking, and Oizys laughs.

"Who hasn't?" She smiles, showing her fangs. "How's that going for you?"

Nico studiously ignores that question. "You are a powerful Goddess," he says, and doesn't he know it. "You would be a valuable asset if you would help us."

She allows herself a small smirk of satisfaction, her eyes glowing momentarily. "True," she says easily, leaning on the desk and propping her chin up with one hand as she watches him. "They don't tend to acknowledge me much, I admit- but I'm always here, a constant force, and that adds up over the years. Like Aphrodite. You cannot kill misery any more than you can kill love. Of course," she adds, looking him up and down, "they oftentimes go hand in hand, don't they…?"

When he doesn't respond, she sighs. "Of course, Aphrodite's job is rather more glamorous. She has her seat up on Olympus while I dwell down among you mortals. It's all well and good, I suppose. I do get to be rather more hands-on with my subjects."

"So will you help?" Nico asks, a note of impatience creeping into his voice. He wants to leave, wants to be out of this room and far away from this Goddess curled in the stone chair.

Oizys thinks about it, head tilted appraisingly to one side.

"I'll consider it," she says eventually. "The suffering this will bring does rather appeal, not to mention being right among your funny little mortal dramas, but risking myself to fight the Earth Mother doesn't exactly entice me."

Nico sighs, rising to his feet. Oizys shakes her head, reaching out a hand to grab his wrist. Her touch is icy cold and Nico itches to rip himself out of her grip.

"Stay a while and chat first, Nico," she says warmly. "Haven't you heard the saying?"

"Thank you, but I should be going," Nico says, no trace of emotion in his voice.

She sighs and removes her hand, but the touch lingers, his skin burning curiously where there was contact. She stands, eyes still fixed on his.

"I'll contact you by Iris message in a week," he tells her. "Answer me then."

"Oh, no need, dear King," the Goddess of Misery says with a distinctly sarcastic bow, form flickering at the edges as she begins to fade. "I'm _always_ with you."

Nico blanches, his normally pallid face becoming even paler, but before he can respond, she's vanished from sight. He stands stock still, eyes flicking from one side of the room to the other, but there is no trace of Oizys.

"Oh, and one more thing," she says suddenly from behind him, and Nico actually does flinch this time, gods, he wants to leave, wants to run, can't take this much longer-

"Give Percy Jackson my love, won't you?" she whispers in his ear as she fades. "Or your own, it's all the same thing in the end…"

She really is gone then, he can feel it, the oppressive atmosphere of the room slowly lifting, candles flickering back into life.

Very slowly, Nico leans against the wall, sliding down it until he's curled on the floor, knees drawn up to his chest. He rests his head in his crossed arms and, for the first time in a long while, begins to cry.

_Pretty much written as soon as House Of Hades came out, since I was sort of a little bundle of Nico di Angelo feelings at the time. Somebody go hug that boy._

_I know we had Akhlys in HoH, but Oizys seemed to just be a different goddess for the same thing, so I went with that._


End file.
